By Kalavanti Raja
Rasool Bux Palijo (1930-2018) was not merely a political leader—he was a teacher, a visionary, and a tireless advocate for people’s rights. Throughout his life, he championed the cause of the poor, the working class, women, and religious minorities. As a prolific writer, orator, and organizer, Palijo Sahib used democratic and peaceful methods to guide generations towards political consciousness, social justice, and resistance against extremism and discrimination.
A Personal Encounter with a Public Figure
In person, Palijo Sahib exuded warmth and curiosity. He would begin every meeting with a firm handshake and thoughtful questions: “How are you? What are you reading? Have you travelled anywhere new?” Yet, when it came to organizational discipline, he was uncompromising. Simplicity defined his life, and literature framed his conversations. His meetings often began with poetry and concluded with revolutionary songs—many of which he would recite himself with unshaken vigor.
What distinguished him was his remarkable ability to acknowledge the positive attributes of others, regardless of political differences. His sharp memory, wit, and encyclopedic knowledge made him not only a formidable intellectual but also an approachable and inspirational leader.
I first came across his work in the 1990s through his short story collection Pasi Gaṛha Gul (“The Sensation of Red Flowers”). We met formally in 2004 during a session of Sindhiyani Tehreek in Karachi. From that point onward, I had the opportunity to witness his leadership closely during protests, processions, and long marches.
A Lifelong Commitment to the Marginalized
Palijo Sahib possessed a profound respect for Sindh’s marginalized communities, especially those belonging to the Kolhi, Meghwar, and Bheel castes. He believed in not just recognizing their struggles but actively empowering them to lead. Although he disapproved of the term “minority,” he stood firmly with the oppressed whenever injustice struck—be it the 1988 abduction of Sita Kolhi, the forced conversions of Rinkle Kumari, Asha, and Lata, or the desecration of Bhoro Bheel’s grave.
He consistently opposed religious fanaticism. During times of communal tension—such as the fallout from the Babri Masjid demolition in India—he ensured the protection of Hindu temples in Sindh. He led demonstrations against the murders of four Hindu brothers in Shikarpur and the killing of Sudham Chand Chawla, standing side-by-side with human rights champions like Asma Jahangir.
In one of our meetings, he asked members of Sindhiyani Tehreek to name Hindu deities or share their knowledge of Hindu philosophy—many of us were silent. He then made it mandatory for every member to study comparative religion. This initiative later materialized into seminars on Bhagat Kabir, Meerabai, Kanwar Ram, Hemu Kalani, and Rooplo Kolhi, as well as public celebrations of Holi, Diwali, and other cultural festivals.
Women as the Vanguard of Resistance
Perhaps no contribution of Palijo Sahib is more enduring than his efforts to politically empower women. He did not view them as mere participants, but as leaders. He introduced housewives to the public space, enabling them to lead rallies, stage protests, and even endure imprisonment for collective causes. He often joked with us, “Should I be tried for dragging you out of peaceful homes into the battlefield of resistance?” But we knew that he had given our lives purpose and direction.
At an internal meeting once, he asked us to recite verses from Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai. When we repeated well-known lines, he gently remarked, “It’s time we learn something new.” He would then recite verses that offered profound insights on struggle and sacrifice—lines that remain etched in my memory even today.
Regional Influence and International Recognition
Palijo Sahib’s influence extended well beyond Pakistan. At a 2008 conference in Kathmandu, Nepal, a Maoist Party representative told me how highly respected Palijo Sahib was during the premiership of Comrade Prachanda. In Bangladesh, senior Awami League members recalled his contributions with admiration. Afghan political thinkers, including President Dr. Najib, once welcomed him as a state guest, acknowledging his rich intellectual legacy.
His writings, speeches, and activism were closely followed by progressive circles across South Asia, where he was viewed as a beacon of principled leftist politics.
Practicing What He Preached
True leadership begins at home, and Palijo Sahib lived by this principle. He educated his mother and sisters and prepared them to face the brunt of state violence alongside him. Unlike many political families that remained detached from struggle, his entire family was deeply involved—from his wife and children to his extended kin.
His political organization functioned like a household of shared purpose. Sons would join the Sindhi Students Movement, daughters the Sindhiyani Tehreek, and parents the Awami Tehreek or Labor Wing. The entire family structure was redefined along revolutionary lines.
He rejected feudal traditions and entrenched caste systems by promoting inclusivity in practice. In party events, food was prepared by members from historically marginalized communities and shared equally by all. These small but significant acts were bold challenges to the societal status quo.
Thanks to his ideological clarity and cultural influence, many anti-women practices such as karo kari, forced marriages, and watta satta began to decline in the areas his movements touched. Women were encouraged to pursue law and assert their rights, including the freedom to choose their life partners.
The Final Days of a Tireless Revolutionary
Even in his final days, Palijo Sahib remained active. I vividly remember him attending my daughter Roshni’s birthday celebration just weeks before his passing in 2018. He gave a brief speech about communal harmony, recalling that the division between Hindus and Muslims was a colonial relic, and not our natural state. A week before his death, I saw him in hospital—surrounded by books, eyes alive with thought. When I suggested he rest, he smiled and said, “Lenin and Mao are keeping me awake.”
His final words to us were filled with hope and courage: “Though my body weakens, my spirit stands firm. I will return to the field of action.” He did not return. But his words remain with us, echoing in the hearts of those who continue his struggle. Rasool Bux Palijo left behind not only a political legacy, but also a cultural, intellectual, and moral one. As the author of books, a champion of the downtrodden, and the founder of one of Pakistan’s most disciplined political movements, he remains a figure whose life deserves more study, more remembrance, and more emulation.
